The Rest of It
by hollyentirely
Summary: What it means to move on, grow up and avoid being turned into a canary. A brief novella outlining the year(s) after the Final Battle, and how Harry and Ginny navigate through the awkward.
1. Breaking the Silence

**A/N: Well. Hello there. First fic in five years! Pretty exciting for me, not going to lie. I'm a little rusty, but hopefully this is alright just the same.**

**Read and review, loo-hoos!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

**The Rest of It**

The last of the funerals was held two weeks after the final battle. It was Lavender Brown's. The crowd was thick; Lavender had proven the hat's sorting decision in her final year at Hogwarts, and the delay in her funeral had caused the depressingly hopeful rumor that she had in fact survived Greyback's attack to circulate thinly in the mournful air of all the funerals that came before hers. If she had indeed survived, this would have curved a smile into the very corners of her lips. She was, after all, quite prone to gossip.

Unfortunately, her funeral's delay was in fact caused by the unerringly loyal Parvati Patil's desperate-and futile-efforts to avoid a closed casket ceremony. But no matter the glamour charm, the concealing charm, and even a rather desperate Polyjuice potion which she had borrowed from Snape's destroyed storeroom and placed a hair from Lavender's brush used before the battle…Lavender Brown was not to have an open casket ceremony.

Ginny thought that, all in all, Lavender wouldn't have minded her casket open. For all her vanity and selfishness, the vibrant girl had shirked nearly all of it that final year and had truly taken to the role of protector when the Carrows went after the younger students. She would have worn her scars with pride and-Ginny concealed a rueful smile-not a small amount of glee. The gossip would have been particularly interesting to hear whenever she would have walked into a crowded room, and most of it would probably not have been nearly as interesting as the true story. Ginny could not imagine how Lavender would have possibly been able to embellish it, but she did not doubt the girls' ability to do so.

But a funeral was for those left behind, not those who were dead, and no one wanted any more reminders of the brutality of Fenrir Greyback.

A hush fell over the gathered souls in the small church outside Lavender's parents' town, as her family had just entered through a side door and made their way slowly to the front pew. The noise hadn't been great to begin with-they were all seasoned funeral-goers now, and as this was the last, it was also the most difficult in some ways. There could be no more hiding behind ceremony and tact. The emotional survival shield they had all wielded over the past weeks would be buried with Lavender, and now they would have to face their grief head on.

The feat seemed almost larger than the battle itself had been. At least they could see the battle coming, and thus could see an end, good or bad. This…this ache…Ginny wasn't sure it would ever end, not completely.

She took a deep breath quietly through her nose, and slipped her hand into Ron's, standing beside her. Hermione cried quietly on Ron's other side, as she had done at all the previous funerals. Ron was running a hand absently over Hermione's back, and when Ginny slipped her palm into his other hand, she felt cool metal touch it. Ron squeezed her hand tightly for a moment, and she saw a tear slide out of his right eye. She nearly let one fall from her own eye when she realized what he clutched between their palms.

"Good on you, Ron," she whispered as the ceremony began. He stared straight ahead.

The old priest's voice droned soothingly at the front of the church, and Ginny shivered as she felt a draft sift through the aisle next to her. She saw the priest incline his head slightly in acknowledgment towards the back of the church as he continued on, and the rest of the funeral-goers did not need to turn round to know who had arrived.

Ginny felt Harry Potter slip into the space next to her. He was always late to the funerals. Hermione said it was because he refused to miss a single one, and therefore it was nearly impossible for him to leave one in time to make the next. In fact, she even suspected he had persuaded McGonagall to let him use the old time-turner Hermione had used in fourth year so that he could get the job done. Ginny would not have put it past him, but thought it more likely that he struggled to enter each church for the guilt that gnawed at him every time. There had been no other funerals but Lavender's that day, and when she arrived she swore she caught a glimpse of a black-cloaked figure at the edge of the cemetery as she had made her way inside.

She could smell the cold rain on his traveling cloak as he shifted in a sigh beside her. She closed her eyes and, beneath Parvati's shuddering sobs and Hermione's quiet sniffles, slipped her other hand into his.

His hand was cold. Nearly lifeless, she thought, and though her heart hammered at the stiff way he held it and did not respond-this touch was the only there had been since the day of the battle itself-she did not let go for the entire ceremony. Nor after, as they made their way to the front to comfort Parvati and give their condolences to Lavender's parents. She did not let go as Ron gently laid the necklace saying "My Sweetheart" across the top of Lavender's shiny black coffin, nor as Harry quietly stuttered his way through what sounded like a condolence but was meant as an apology to her parents. She didn't let go as they made their way outside, and up the hill to the Disapparition point.

And then, finally, as she was just about to finally relinquish Harry's cold hand and Apparate back to the Burrow, she felt the tiniest of squeezes from him. She let out a breath before looking back and meeting Harry's eyes, so green behind his rain-flecked glasses, so tormented, and she knew.

The beast of grief was finally upon them, and it was time to light the first flames of the first candles that would slowly light their way through the gloom of mourning.

"Alright then, Harry," she said, tugging on his hand to pull him closer. She grasped his arms firmly. Technically, she hadn't passed her Apparition test yet, as there had been no Ministry endorsed course the past year at Hogwarts, but she'd had to distract herself with _something_ at her Aunt Muriel's, and so she'd taught herself. She closed her eyes and concentrated, and then twirling in Harry's arms, Apparated them back to the safety of the Burrow's kitchen.

The rain pittered against the kitchen windows as Ginny set the kettle on for tea. Harry sat at a chair at the table behind her, absently twirling a stale biscuit between his fingers. The house was overflowing with food from would-be comforters in the wake of Fred's death. Ginny had slowly been siphoning it off to various homeless shelters, knowing that in the face of taking away the necessity of mothering her remaining children, Molly would fall to pieces. She knew her mother needed the bustle, and so she tried to take most of the well-intentioned food away before Molly even knew it was there. The biscuits had escaped her clutches, however, and Molly had stared at them with tormented eyes for 20 minutes that morning before making her way upstairs for a nap.

Ginny knew she would be looking through the photo albums again. Her mother never really slept these days.

The kettle sounded, breaking Harry from his reverie, and the cookie split in half as it tumbled to its side on the table. He stared at it before shaking his head and vanishing it with a flick of his wand.

Ginny set a cup in front of him and levitated the kettle to the table.

"So," she said as the hot water poured over his tea. "Still take it with one sugar?"

He made a sound that Ginny took as an affirmative, and she plopped a sugar cube into his cup for him before leaning back to take a sip from her own chipped mug.

"This is a monumental moment, you know," she said casually, looking at him through the steam. He looked up inquisitively. "The last time you spoke to me you said, 'Ginny, you have to come back!' At the battle. I didn't, by the way. You probably figured that out already."

The smallest of grins tugged at the right corner of his mouth as he nodded.

"Well, whatever you say now is the first thing you will have said to me directly in two weeks, and that last one hardly counted since it was the first thing you'd said to me in nearly a year, and you were pretty stressed out at the time."

She thought for a moment, wrinkling her nose.

"And before _that_, the last thing you said was that you were breaking up with me. To keep me safe. Which, by the way, was a completely idiotic idea and didn't _really_ work. So really none of it has been very…constructive? Is that the word? Anyway, now you get to say something else. What _will_ it be?"

She was smiling at him. Harry looked a little terrified at the stream of words that had just come out of her mouth. He cleared his throat.

Nothing, but the sound of the rain in the kitchen.

Ginny sighed and set her cup down. "Harry," she said. "Look at me."

Slowly, he raised his head and met her eyes. She smiled encouragingly.

"Happy Birthday," he whispered. His voice seemed thin with disuse. He hadn't talked to much of anyone since the battle. Not even Ron and Hermione.

Ginny's smile slowly faded as she stared at him in confusion.

"Pardon?" she asked, not moving a muscle.

He cleared his throat again and said a little more strongly, "Happy Birthday."

Ginny continued to stare at him. "I know you've been gone a long time, Harry…but it's not my birthday."

He shook his head.

"Oh no, no that's…I meant…Well, it's the last thing you said to me. Happy Birthday. Well…'Happy Birthday, Harry,' actually, but it feels weird saying my own name like that."

Ginny stared at him, wide-eyed, over her cooling tea.

"You…" she swallowed. "You…Harry, I just gave you a golden opportunity on a silver platter! To say something really monumental and romantic after a long and completely excruciating time of silence!"

Harry smiled slightly, "Golden opportunity on a silver platter, eh? That's a lot of precious metals."

"Precious…" Ginny set her cup on the table slowly. "Harry, you are really not good with words, you know that?"

Harry frowned. "Yeah, I know."

Ginny rolled her eyes as Harry fiddled with the crumbs that escaped from his previous Vanishing spell. She drummed her fingers on the table.

"Let's try again," she announced. Harry looked up at her and opened his mouth.

"No!" she said quickly, and lunged over the table to press her fingers against his lips. His glasses were upset in the process, and he looked cross-eyed at the hand she had against his mouth.

"The next words," Ginny iterated, "that come out of your mouth," she slowly sat back and retracted her hand with her, "are going to count as the first real words you have said to me in a year. Alright?"

She barely breathed as she looked at him expectantly. He stared at her wide-eyed as he straightened his glasses.

She waved a hand toward him. "Go on!" she encouraged.

Harry opened his mouth, seemed to think about it for a moment, and then closed it again. He frowned, thinking hard, and opened his mouth again.

Once more, he closed it back. Finally, his shoulders slumped as he exhaled and stared at the table top in front of him.

"I am so, _so_ sorry, Gin," he whispered.

His words filtered through the cloudy light that sifted through the rain-splattered window of the kitchen. They seemed to hit Ginny's face with the force of a train. She rocked back physically as she felt them lift tears into her eyes and tendrils of uncontrollable magic wind through her body, before there was a sudden crack, and Harry started as his tea spread across the table top and his teacup fell into pieces before him.

"I _knew_ you were going to say that!" Harry's eyes widened as he looked up and saw Ginny rearing her arm back with her own cup in it. He ducked with the instinct of the past year's constant danger, and Ginny's cup flew over his head and smashed against the wall behind him. He stared at the tea splattering down the wall and slowly turned to look at the red-headed girl sitting across from him.

"Holy shit, Gin," he said quietly, with something that sounded a little like awe.

"Don't you dare apologize to me, Harry Potter!"

"But…but Gin I-"

"No! You do _not_ come back here after a year spent doing God knows what God knows where going through God knows how much and _apologize_ to me for saving all of our lives!"

Harry gaped at the girl in front of him, now heaving great gulps of air in and out as she shook in fury.

"Ginny, I don't think-"

"You aren't even _capable_ of thinking, you bloody idiot!" Harry was torn between looking mildly offended and completely terrified. "Right now, I think your brain must have seeped out of your ears. You're sorry. You're _sorry!?_ I suppose you think you are apologizing for leaving me? Or for Fred's death? Or for dating me in the first place so I ended up a target for the Carrows?"

A dark look crossed over Harry face. "A target? You were a target for the Carrows because of me? But that's why I broke up with you in the first place!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And I suppose you think no one was smart of enough to figure out _why_ you did that, hm?"

Harry gaped, completely flabbergasted. Ginny sighed.

"I'm not trying to make you feel guilty here, Harry. It wasn't your fault."

Harry choked. "Not my fault!? They targeted you because of me!"

"Right. Because I had absolutely no choice in the matter of dating you-"

"I could have just…just ignored you, and-"

"-and had no idea that you were the _Chosen One_-"

"-and…well, granted, I think it would have been hard to ignore that kiss after the Quidditch match, and I know I couldn't have-"

"-and this is all not to mention the fact that I was antagonizing them anyways, and it's not like I could have-"

"-just pretended not to love you!" They finished together.

Harry and Ginny stared at each other over the table, breathing heavily. They stayed that way for a while before Ginny slowly nodded.

"Well. I'm glad we agree on that point, at least."

Harry shakily nodded his head before sinking into his chair and putting his head in his hands.

"I can't just pretend like none of it was my fault, Gin."

Ginny sank into her own seat. She looked at Harry, slumped in his chair. His breaths were coming in deliberate, even sighs, as if he was trying to control himself from crying. She bit her lip, and then, nodding, decided to speak.

"Harry, take off your shirt."

Harry's head shaped up so fast he nearly whacked it against the wall behind him. "Wh-what?" He gaped at her.

"Take off your shirt."

"Why!?"

Ginny took a deep breath for patience. "Just do it, Harry."

"But…but…"

"Harry Potter, take off your shirt right now or I swear to Merlin I will Bat-Bogey you into next week!"

Harry's jaw, if possible, dropped even further.

"Bad time?"

Harry and Ginny both whipped their heads around to stare at George, who was leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen with eyebrows raised.

"Go away, George," Ginny demanded.

"I don't know," George said. He unfolded himself from the doorframe and reached for the kettle sitting on the table. "This seems more entertaining than sitting in my room staring at Fred's empty bed."

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath. Harry seemed to recover himself and let out a sad sigh.

"George," he said. "I am so sorry about Fre-"

But he couldn't finish, because George had stuffed a canary cream into his mouth as he spoke. In a flash of feathers, he was transformed into…nothing. He still stood in the kitchen, eyes squeezed tightly shut and mouth full of pastry. He slowly cracked one eye open, then the other, and felt his own chest to assure himself he was still just Harry.

Ginny looked at him as she addressed George. "Defective batch?" she questioned.

Harry chewed the last of his canary cream and swallowed, grinning smugly at George. He opened his mouth.

"Nice try, you berk," he said. Except the only thing that came from his mouth was a high pitched chirping noise.

George grinned evilly.

"New batch Freddie was working on before he decided to up and croak on me," he announced. Ginny hid a giggle behind her hand. Harry glared at George. He rolled his eyes.

"You would think the Chosen One would have a more intimidating glare, wouldn't you, little sis?"

Ginny nodded and continued to giggle. Harry chirped menacingly at George. George looked at him contemplatively.

"Harry," he said. "Fred wouldn't blame you for his death, and neither do I. We knew what we were getting into when we joined the Order, and we knew it might mean we would die. Don't apologize for something that you had no control over, because it takes away Fred's free will, and that takes honor away from his death."

Harry stared at him before hanging his head. Slowly, he nodded. Ginny laid a hand gently on her brother's arm.

"George…" she said. "How are you able to…you're taking Fred's death better than _I_ am, and you were his twin!"

George snorted. "I still am his twin," he said. "And I'm not taking it well at all. I don't sleep, I stare at his empty bed all day, and I try not to speak because I'm always expecting him to…"

"Finish your sentences," Harry said. But it came out as a chirp. He sighed exasperatedly and gestured to his throat. George grinned.

"I'll fix it when I'm sure you're not going to say anything else stupid," he announced. He turned back to his sister. "I'm not taking it well, Gin," he said softly. "But I know I dishonor my brother's memory if I don't continue what we started together. It's the only thing that gets me through each day."

He waved his wand to warm the kettle back up, repaired Harry's broken teacup, and poured himself a cuppa.

"That's enough serious stuff for one day. Chosen One," he addressed Harry. "Just wave your wand and say _finite incantantem_ and you'll go back to normal."

Harry did as he was told. And promptly turned fully into a canary. He bristled his feathers and let out an indignant chirp.

"And that," George announced. "Is my addition to Fred's last invention."

George and Ginny held on to each other as they laughed until, finally, George wiped tears from his eyes and tossed a blue candy onto the table in front of canary-Harry.

"Eat that," he said. "It really will reverse it."

Canary-Harry looked at the candy dubiously. George shrugged, picked his tea back up, and made his way from the kitchen.

"You'll just have to trust me on this one, eh?" he said, and disappeared up the stairs.

Ginny was silent as she watched canary-Harry stare dubiously at the candy until finally he let out a little bird sigh, hopped over to it, and pecked it up quickly.

Human Harry toppled off the table as he turned back into himself.

"Oof!" he said as he landed on his back. He adjusted his glasses and rubbed the back of his head as he emerged sheepishly from beneath the table.

"_Merlin_," he said. "I really think it may be your brother that kills me, now Voldemort's gone," he said to Ginny.

"Mm," she said. "Probably."

Harry clambered up and gingerly sat back in his seat. He looked up to Ginny, who still hadn't sat down. She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"You think just because you briefly got turned into a canary I'm going to forget that you haven't taken your shirt off like I asked?"

Harry groaned. "Gin," he complained, slowly feeling heat creep up his neck and into his cheeks.

"Do it, Harry."

"I really don't think-"

"Harry."

Harry sighed before scooting his chair back. He muttered under his breath as he slid his cloak over his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt. He gave Ginny one last embarrassed, dubious look before shrugging the shirt from his torso. He looked away as a flush travelled across his chest and up his neck.

"Oh, _Harry_," Ginny whispered, advancing toward him. He clenched his eyes closed. "I _knew_ you had done something like this."

She was sitting beside him now, leaning towards him as she reached out and, with one small finger, traced the lightning bolt scar now resting dead center upon Harry's chest. Harry's jaw clenched as all the breath seemed to leave his body.

"You…" she seemed to be struggling between screaming and crying. "You _died_," her voice broke on the word. "You _died_, Harry! To save us. To save _me_," she ended quietly.

Harry's hand flew to the back of his neck, and he rubbed it uncomfortably. "Look, Gin, I didn't have much of a ch-"

"Don't you brush this off, Harry! You can't pretend like you didn't have a choice. Everyone has a choice."

Harry was getting agitated now. "Everyone except me, you mean. Bloody prophecies. I swear if I ever see Trelawney again I am _running_ in the opposite direction," he muttered.

Ginny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh really? Seems to me the prophecy only told us that you existed, and had the power to vanquish Tom. If you decided to do so. Which you did."

Harry was quickly buttoning his shirt back up and muttering darkly to himself. "It wasn't really like I kept stopping to think about it. He was _after_ me. All the time. I just…reacted."

"Reactions are a choice, too."

Harry snorted. He still wouldn't look at her as he finished the last buttons on his shirt. "Hardly."

Ginny narrowed her eyes in a glare. "Oh really?" she questioned darkly. Harry cut his eyes her way.

Slowly, she stood up and began unbuttoning her own shirt. Harry's eyes widened in panic and he threw a terror-stricken look towards the doorway to the kitchen.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed. He lunged forward to stop her hands from continuing. This put his hands over hers right below her breasts, and he pulled back as if scalded before flapping his hands at her. "What are you doing!?"

Harry was looking at her with more fear and panic than he probably had when he stared death in the face to save the entire Wizarding World.

"Showing you _my_ reactions over this past year, which _apparently_ weren't my choice," she said angrily, and ripped her shirt from her shoulders.

Harry gaped for a moment before slowly reaching a hand out towards her. "Ginny," his whisper was strangled. "Ginny, what _happened_?"

There, beneath her plain grey cotton bra, were a line of scars traveling neatly down her sides. They were each about half an inch in length, thick and red. On the right, they marched down to the line of her skirt, and on the left they stopped just shy of it. They were methodical, and deep, and Ginny wore them not with pride, but determination.

"Amycus Carrow," she said simply. Harry's shaking hand reached her skin, and she did not flinch as his fingers travelled slowly over each bump carved there by Amycus' short, burning wand.

"He gave me a new one each time I stood up for one of the younger kids. Or one of the half-bloods or muggle-borns. Or anyone, really," she shrugged. "He never went into detail about what he was marking, or what would happen when he ran out of room, but I thought it was pretty obvious."

Harry's eyes snapped to hers. She wore that same hard, blazing look he usually so admired. "No, Ginny," he whispered in horror. She held his gaze.

"I'm sure you can see," she said. "That he was almost out of room."

"Why, Ginny? Why didn't you…-"

"Stop?" she finished for him. "Why didn't I accept that what he had planned was horrible and dirty, and that what I was doing wasn't worth it?"

Harry didn't say anything.

"Because it was. It was worth it. He Crucio'd them. First years. Some to within an inch of their lives. He repeatedly slashed Neville's cheeks for refusing to agree with his teachings, and he chained younger students to the walls of the dungeon until they agreed to torture their fellow students for punishment. People stopped standing up to him, I think some of them even started to believe him, and I couldn't watch it happen. I had a _choice_, Harry. And I'm proud of the one I made."

Silence reigned in the little kitchen. Slowly, Ginny shrugged her shirt back over her shoulders and buttoned it up.

"I am, too."

Ginny froze, and looked up at Harry. His eyes met hers, and they were fierce in their meaning.

"I am proud of your choice, too," he repeated. He was holding her by the shoulders now, tightly, as he stared into her eyes. He took a deep breath. "I really, _really_ wish you hadn't had to make it in the first place, and if I could have…" he seemed to struggle for a moment. "But I couldn't. And you did. So I'm proud."

Ginny nodded shortly, and didn't break eye contact with him as she lifted a hand slowly and placed her palm over the center of his chest.

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "For this." She indicated the hand over his scar with her eyes.

"Ginny, I didn't-"

"Harry," she said firmly, pressing more firmly into his chest. "Thank you."

He closed his mouth and swallowed.

"Say you're welcome, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "Only if you let me thank you as well."

Ginny blinked. "Thank me? For what?"

Harry swallowed. "You…you, uh…well, when Voldemort, you know…killed me," Harry grimaced. "Well, you were the last thing I thought of. It's why I…why I had the courage to face him." He swallowed again. "And, you know…the rest of it."

Ginny stared at him.

"The way you talk about saving the world, Harry," she said slowly. "Is truly astounding. The rest of it? Are you serious?"

Harry wrinkled his nose. Ginny laughed.

"The rest of it? Harry, the rest of it involved you _dying_, coming back to life, dueling the most powerful Dark Wizard in our time, and then saving the world with a bloody Disarming spell! The rest of it? _God_, Harry!"

She laughed again. Harry grinned ruefully and rolled his eyes.

"Yeah," he said. "The rest of it."

They grinned at one another for a bit before Ginny's eyes softened.

"You're welcome, Harry."

He smiled.

"So are you, Ginny."

She nodded, and turned away. She waved her wand at the tea kettle. It floated back over to the stove as she Summoned a couple more chipped cups to her and placed them on the table.

"Well," she said. "I guess it's time to get through the rest of it. What do you think?"

Harry sat at his chair and fiddled with the rim of his teacup.

"You're not going to like most of the things I tell you," he said.

She took the kettle from the stove and poured Harry's tea. She plopped a sugar cube in it, sloshed a bit of cream into her own cup, and sat down. She lifted her mug towards Harry in a cheers, and met his eyes.

"Neither are you," she said, and lifted an eyebrow as she took a sip of her tea.

Harry chuckled. "Alright, then," he said, and clinked his cup against Ginny's before leaning back, and beginning to speak.

And as the rain pattered against the window and the tea cooled, Harry and Ginny went through the rest of it.

**A/N: I have no idea how Harry or Ginny really take their tea, and my HP book is elsewhere at the moment, so I may not be entirely accurate on their last words to each other, but I think I'm pretty close. And it isn't really the point anyways.**

**Review? Thanks, loo-hoos!**


	2. Letters from the Hogwarts Express

**A/N: Well, this turned into a bit of a multi-chapter thing, didn't it? I was going to make a series of one-shots following "The Rest of It," but the idea of finishing it off as a novella just wouldn't leave me alone.**

**This will not be a typical story progression. I am not outlining every moment of Harry and Ginny's life. I'll just be exploring moments, brief stretches of time, that had them arriving "Nineteen Years Later."**

**An with that, chapter two! Read and review, loo-hoos!**

**-h**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter Two**

_For littleforest, who wrote me my first review in five years._

_Thanks :)_

**Letters from the Hogwarts Express**

_Dear Harry,_

_I think I'm going to be sick. You've passed your Apparition test…what do you think will happen if I Apparate home off a moving train? Discounting the fact that I haven't got my license, I mean. We both know I'll pass. _

_Sincerely,_

_Ginny_

**_Gin,_**

**_Something bad._**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_What about if you Apparated to the train?_

_Sincerely,_

_Ginny_

**_Gin,_**

**_Something even worse._**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_Thanks for that, you absolute wordsmith. It was really helpful. I am reassured and uplifted, and I am no longer nauseous at the thought of returning to Hogwarts after last year's d̶e̶b̶a̶c̶l̶e̶ t̶o̶r̶t̶u̶r̶e̶ u̶n̶f̶o̶r̶t̶u̶n̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶p̶p̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶s̶…shenanigans._

_Because I have been thinking…it's just…I understand that this is what I need to do. I really do. Even though it's what those barmy psycho-Healers suggested and normally I wouldn't come within a Giant's foot of following any of their daft ideas, I do think they are right. _

_About this one thing. _

_Everything else is shite. _

_Writing it all down? In a __diary_ _of all things? A diary, Harry! Of all things! Do you think they were attacked by Nargles during the part where I told them all about my first year and opening the Chamber of Secrets? I'm sure Luna would say so. In fact, I'll ask her._

_I just asked her. She says it is more likely they were attacked by wrackspurts, not Nargles, as it isn't anytime near Christmas. Logical one, that Luna. Why no one can see past her eccentricities and understand how appropriate her Sorting into Ravenclaw was, I'll never know._

_She's also just said that refusing to write in a diary just because the last one turned out to be possessed is illogical and perpetuates my psychosis over all things black and diary-like. And that it is probably prolonging my sense of grief and suffering._

_Daft girl, that Luna. I don't know how she gets by in Ravenclaw._

_Best,_

_Ginny_

_PS: Why would it be worse for you to Apparate to me? You popped around the entire country under extreme duress all last year, surely this couldn't be that hard._

_PPS: You're a prat._

**_Ginny,_**

**_Shenanigans? You're serious?_**

**_Your friend,_**

**_Harry_**

**_PS: I'm bollocks at accuracy. Hermione always helped. _**

_Harry,_

_I can call my 6th year at Hogwarts a shenanigan if you can call destroying evil you-know-whats, carrying around a piece of the most evil wizard of all time's soul for 17 years, sacrificing yourself for the sake of humanity and then __coming back from the dead to defeat Voldemort__, AND I QUOTE "the rest of it."_

_Also, I'm curious to understand how you passed the Apparition exam if your bollocks at accuracy. They make you Apparate within a circle with a two foot diameter. What, pray tell, is your definition of "accurate"?_

_Best,_

_Ginny_

_PS: "Your friend," Harry? Really?_

**_Gin,_**

**_The Apparition examiner wouldn't stop staring at my scar long enough to see where we'd landed. And before you say it, no, it was not the scar on my chest as I was not shirtless. No one knows about that one except you. Well, and Ron. Which mean Hermione knows by proxy. _**

**_And I generally wear my shirt in public, thanks._**

**_It isn't as if I was using my Chosen One status on purpose. It just happened. And I didn't see the point in arguing. Besides, it should be good for something. If I can't use it to pass Apparation, what can I use it for?_**

**_Your friend (you don't consider us friends?),_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_You could use that scar on your forehead to convince the public to elect you Minister for Magic at 18. If you publicized the other one, not only could you convince everyone to willfully elect you Dictator of the World, you would also single-handedly bankrupt the Prophet when Witch Weekly took their entire readership due to shirtless pictures of the Man-Who-Lived-Twice._

_Of course we're friends! It's just…so odd…to sign your letter like that. _

_Best,_

_Ginny_

**_Gin,_**

**_I would never allow Witch Weekly to run shirtless photographs of me. _**

**_Only the Quibbler._**

**_Your friend (I don't see why it's odd to sign my letters this way),_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry!_

_Stop that!_

_Ginny(!)_

**_Ginny(!)_**

**_Why?_**

**_Your friend,_**

**_Harry!_**

_Harry, _

_I said already! It's odd! Because…well we were dating, and then we weren't since you were on a mission to save the world and all, and then you came back. And then we talked so much and I told you all sorts of things that no one else knows, and for some reason I'm mostly alright with that. And then you kept looking at me all summer with that…smolder thing you do…but it was always when you thought I wasn't looking and I didn't bring it up since we'd already talked about how we weren't going to try and start anything while you were still having massive guilt issues and I was having flashbacks and bursting into tears about Fred at the most ridiculous times even though I've never been a crier. I've never been a crier, Harry! I cried more this summer than ever in my life. _

_And more than half of it was me crying all over your poor shirts! Which, by the way, I'll be sending you new ones after the first Hogsmeade weekend. Just as soon as we get there and I can buy you some. Honestly, I know you don't like getting out and about what with everyone mobbing you in the streets with gratitude, but if you have no shirts to remove for Witch Weekly, then you'll never be able to bankrupt the Prophet. Every shirt you own now either has Ginny-tears all over it or bits of slime from Voldemort hunting. Because we all know how much slime Voldemort hunting entails. _

_You're still wearing the shirt with the dragon singes on it, Harry. It's ridiculous. _

_But back to the point. Which is why it's odd that you keep signing with "your friend." As I was saying, we were dating, and then we weren't, and now we're…things. Together. Except not. _

_I don't know, Harry! Just choose something else, yeah?_

_Best,_

_Ginny_

**_Gin,_**

**_Like what?_**

**_Your (smoldering) friend,_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_Well, I don't know! Something else! Like…your partner in crime, maybe?_

_Your Partner in Crime,_

_Ginny_

**_Ginny,_**

**_We haven't committed any crimes._**

**_Your friend,_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_That is a crock of shite._

_I vandalized school property (repeatedly) and harbored Muggleborns (and Half-Bloods…and Blood Traitors, for that matter. Actually I __was__ a Blood Traitor, so there's that) all under Voldemort's regime. Which specifically prohibited those actions. Rather enthusiastically._

_And __you're__ Undesirable Number 1._

_Also a bank robber. _

_Crimes._

_Your PIC,_

_Ginny_

**_Gin,_**

**_1) You were underage at the time of your indiscretions. _**

**_2) You don't think I'm Undesirable. _**

**_3) The goblins have dropped their charges against me in exchange for a nominal fee. _**

**_No crimes._**

**_Your (bank robbing) friend,_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_You are such a prat. We are so much more than friends, and you know it!_

_Also, I have this strange feeling that your definition of "nominal" is sort of like your definition of "accurate." That is, not like most people's._

_Ginny_

**_Gin,_**

**_More than friends? Was there snogging this summer, and I have somehow forgotten?_**

**_Your prat,_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_Now you're just being ridiculous._

_You would not forget a snog from me anytime soon. You should know __that__ from experience._

_Ginny_

**_Ginny,_**

**_Care to demonstrate?_**

**_Harry_**

_Harry,_

_Well, would you look at that! Harry Potter, being cheeky. In fact, I dare say you're being downright flirtatious. After this entire summer, where we did nothing but talk and hold hands that one time (at a funeral, mind you, so it hardly counts), and you turned redder than Ron when Mum caught him and Hermione in the orchard nearly naked when I even __mentioned__ that we might snog sometime in the future. And I wasn't even talking about the near future, was I? I was talking about down the road, when we're not so…messed up…from everything. That happened._

_Now I'm nervous again. We're nearly there. What if you just Apparate to the platform in Hogsmeade, and take me back to the Burrow?_

_Ginny_

_PS: If I had known I just needed to get you to think about snogging to get you to stop signing "your friend," I would have begun my letters with "Dear Harry, Let's snog over Christmas break. Love, Ginny."_

**_Gin,_**

**_You promised not to ever mention the nearly naked incident ever again. Ever again, Ginny. This is ever. And you've mentioned it again. Now I'm going to have to go to the Auror practice room to get this image out of my head. You know I don't like to do that, Gin. Everyone comes and stares and applauds whenever I use Expelliarmus. _**

**_You know one of the practice dummies fainted the other day when I tried to disarm him? Kingsley says everyone is convinced my Expelliarmus is now a new version of the Avada spell. He thinks it'll be handy in the field, as the criminals will just faint whenever they see a flash of red coming from my wand._**

**_Handy, that._**

**_Your (not snogged) friend,_**

**_Harry_**

**_PS: If you had sent that letter, I would have responded like this: "Dear Ginny, Brilliant! Love, Harry."_**

_Harry,_

_We're pulling into the station. You aren't on the platform. I'm really doing this, aren't I? I'm going back. _

_I need to tell you something. You already know it, but if I tell you, then maybe I'll believe it too._

C̶o̶l̶i̶n̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶l̶k̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶d̶i̶n̶n̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶m̶o̶r̶e̶.̶

Y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶r̶e̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶e̶.̶

I̶ ̶w̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶g̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶F̶r̶e̶d̶'̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶l̶l̶w̶a̶y̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶g̶e̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶T̶r̶a̶n̶s̶f̶i̶g̶u̶r̶a̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶ ̶s̶i̶n̶g̶l̶e̶ ̶d̶a̶y̶.̶

A̶m̶y̶c̶u̶s̶ ̶C̶a̶r̶r̶o̶w̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶g̶o̶n̶e̶.̶ ̶S̶o̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶i̶s̶t̶e̶r̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶i̶s̶h̶ ̶m̶a̶r̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶m̶e̶,̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶i̶l̶l̶.̶

_I'm going to be alright._

_Your (terrified) friend,_

_Ginny_

_PS: Just because I'm going through a brief mental crisis doesn't mean I'll forget that postscript you sent. I'm not letting you back out of that one._

**_Gin,_**

**_Give 'em hell, yeah?_**

**_Love,_**

**_Harry_**

**_PS: I'm counting on it. Literally. Did you know there's only 110 days between now and when you get home for Christmas?_**

**_PPS: I'm sorry about Pig. He collapsed in my inkwell as I was writing this. I think we've exhausted him. A bit weird to see him so calm, isn't it? Can owls have Pepperup potion? I hope so because Ron just gave him some. The smoke is coming out the wrong end and…erm…best of luck with that. Sorry. _**

**A/N: And there you have it. Chapter two. Next chapter is Ginny home for Christmas. **

**Read? Review? Thanks, loo-hoos!**

**-h**


	3. Three-Quarters Invisible

**A/N: This is part 1 of 2 of Ginny home for Christmas. The chapter length got a little out of control, so I decided to split it up a bit. Review, loo-hoos!**

**-h**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything JKR created.**

**Chapter Three:**

**Three-Quarters Invisible**

Platform 9 3/4 hadn't changed. It was the first time he'd been there in nearly two years, and Harry thought it looked just exactly the same as every other year he had been there. Parents talked amiably together as they waited for the train carrying their children home for Christmas, Muggles bustled about obviously on the opposite side of the platform wall, and younger siblings of arriving students ran about crashing luggage carts together and laughing. The only thing different about this time was that no one was staring at him.

Of course, that probably had something to do with the Invisibility Cloak he was wearing.

"Oy," Ron muttered beside him. "You still there?"

Harry rolled his eyes and looked toward his friend.

"No, Ron. I've got so many better places to be than here waiting to snog the life out of my girl…thing."

Harry grimaced. He couldn't exactly call Ginny his girlfriend, could he? Even though he thought of her that way. They had decided not to date quite yet in deference to the fact that they spent the summer after the final battle preparing to get their lives back on track once Autumn rolled around. It was confusing, mourning the loss of so many of their friends while also wanting to snog each other senseless. How did one grieve while also experiencing the happiest moments of their life to date?

Plus, it hadn't helped that they had all spent half their time at the ministry, debriefing the straggling remains of the Auror department on everything they'd learned over the past year.

Well, most everything. Harry hadn't gone into great detail on the Horcruxes, though he thought some of the savvier Aurors had figured it out, if the green pallor of their horrified faces was any indication.

And Ginny hadn't mentioned her scars. Though Harry had caught her whispering to her Mum one evening, and they'd disappeared into Ginny's room for hours. Molly had emerged puffy eyed and proud, and had slipped Ginny a thick potion the next morning at breakfast, which Harry assumed would be used to lessen the scarring.

He wasn't positive, though. Ginny hadn't mentioned her scars after that first evening after Lavender's funeral, and Harry didn't bring it up.

So, they'd decided to hold off on the snogging. They needed to work through their grief and puzzle the pieces of their lives back together. Harry needed to start Auror training at the Academy the same way Ginny needed to go back and finish school. It was a mature decision.

Harry was just about done being mature.

Ron groaned. "Merlin, Harry," he complained. "Why do you keep talking about snogging my sister?"

"Because I'm going to. A lot. Every day this break, in fact. Multiple times a day." Harry paused and thought for a moment, before adding, almost defensively, "She said I could in her letter."

Harry got a dreamy expression on his face as he thought about his last letter from Ginny this term. ("Dear Harry, I haven't forgotten that postscript from the train. You'd best be prepared. Love, Ginny").

Ron groaned and ran his hand down his face. "But why do you have to keep _telling_ me about it?"

"Because you keep asking stupid questions."

Ron glared at the empty space to his right. Harry sniggered. He'd moved to Ron's left just a bit ago, having seen what he thought to be the smoke from the train approaching in the distance.

It turned out to be a cloud. It was the seventeenth cloud that Harry had thought might be the train. Perhaps he needed new glasses.

Perhaps he needed to stop obsessing over his best friend's sister.

Right. He'd put obtaining new glasses on the top of his to-do list. Just below snogging Ginny.

Ron whipped his head back around to glare towards Harry's snigger. The man standing on Harry's other side cleared his throat and stepped further away. Harry sniggered again. Ron rolled his eyes and went back to looking down the tracks for the train.

"Well, at least ask her to be your girlfriend before you do. Otherwise you'll make her seem like a…like a…you know. Scarlet woman."

Ron shifted on his feet and flushed just a bit. "I'd have to…protect her honor…and all that."

Harry stared at his friend.

"I'm not going to make her a scarlet woman, Ron. Merlin."

Ron flushed further.

"Good, then." He nodded, still frowning.

Harry suddenly grinned.

"You couldn't duel me anyway. I'm in Auror training, remember? They're teaching me all sorts of new hexes."

Ron glanced dubiously towards Harry's voice. He seemed wary until, suddenly, a rather evil smile extended across his face.

"Yeah, well I have access to George's experimental wheezes, don't I?"

Harry blanched and said nothing. Ron had a point.

Smugly, Ron continued. "Besides, I'll be joining the Auror Academy next semester anyway."

Harry nearly whooped with glee.

"Next semester?" he questioned excitedly. "Are you sure?"

Ron nodded, smiling now.

"But what about George?"

Ron's smile fell just slightly.

"George is…well, he's getting better. And I'll still help out when I can. But I can't replace Fred, and he knows it, so…" suddenly, he snorted. "Plus, I can't handle walking in on him and Angelina snogging in the back room anymore. Last time, she nearly had his trousers off!"

Ron shuddered as Harry barked out a laugh. Ron frowned suddenly.

"Hermione reckons you and Ginny are being mature about your relationship."

Harry grunted noncommittally at the word "mature," thinking it really wasn't all it was made out to be, and squinted his eyes at another phantom smoke trail in the distance.

"She reckons you'll be getting together this break."

Harry grinned and said nothing.

"_I_ reckon you better not have her joining the pudding club anytime soon."

Harry nearly choked on his own spit.

"_Merlin_, Ron! We're not…I'm not…where the hell did that come from?"

Ron was thoroughly flushed at this point and was staring determinedly down the railroad tracks. He continued doggedly.

"Because I swear to Merlin I will permanently turn you into a canary and feed you to Crookshanks if you do."

Harry sputtered.

"Ron! I haven't even snogged her in…in…almost two years!" He frowned. Two years was far too long, he thought to himself. What had he been thinking agreeing to wait to start a relationship? Worst idea he'd ever had. Even worse than spying on Malfoy in the Ministry bathrooms.

Harry winced at the memory. He'd thought to be sure Malfoy wasn't engaged in any nefarious dealings with leftover Death Eaters. He hadn't counted on Malfoy having had Indian for lunch, and a queasy stomach after his father's Trial.

Merlin.

"Well, don't get too fresh with her," Ron continued.

"I'm not going to get her pregnant, Ron."

"Because when there's that much built-up…tension and…stuff…things happen, and-"

"Ron, I really think I get the picture."

"-before you know it she's bought some kind of frilly knickers, and a bloke can't be expected to just…just…_ignore_ that, can he?"

Harry shook his head to clear the thought of Ginny in frilly knickers from his mind before glancing suspiciously at Ron. The other boy was radiating heat he was so red and was staring determinedly anywhere except where he though Harry to be. Harry's eyes widened. He whipped the hood of his Invisibility Cloak over his head.

His disembodied head now floated directly in front of Ron's face. Ron stumbled back with a startled yelp.

"You shagged Hermione!" Harry accused.

Ron looked around wildly as he grabbed at Harry and whipped the cloak back over his friend's head.

"Godric, Harry, do you think you could be a little louder? I don't think the Muggles outside heard you," he hissed.

Harry adjusted his glasses, skewed in the previous skirmish, and glared at Ron through the fabric of the cloak.

"She's like my sister," Harry said in a rather accusing tone.

"I know."

"Tell me she's not…tell me you didn't get her…in the pudding club."

Ron's eyes nearly fell out of his head. "_No!"_ he screamed. The man on Harry's left startled, gave Ron a frightened look, and then scurried away.

The boys stood beside one another, silent.

"Good, then," Harry finally conceded. "Be sure you…be sure you don't."

Ron fixed a severe look on his face.

"Same goes for you, mate."

Harry cleared his throat. Ron shuffled his feet.

"Let's never speak of this again," Harry finally said. Ron nodded shortly. They stood awkwardly for a few more moments before Ron seemed to steel himself to move on and grunted in exasperation.

"Where is the train?" he demanded. "Everyone's staring at us."

"They're staring at you, mate. I'm invisible," Harry said, relieved to be on a new topic of conversation.

Pregnancy.

Merlin.

Ron glared across the platform.

"Oi!" he yelled at a boy standing beside the luggage carts. "It's rude to stare!"

Harry rolled his eyes and looked impatiently back down the track.

"It's rude to yell at small children," he muttered.

Ron was still glaring at the boy, who hadn't yet averted his eyes.

"Why is he staring at me?" he demanded.

"Well, I don't know. Maybe because you're talking to yourself."

"I'm not talking to myself. I'm talking to you."

"And I'm invisible. If you'll remember."

Ron grunted. "Still rude to stare," he insisted.

Harry grinned slyly. "Maybe he's staring because you're friends with the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Ha!" Ron snorted. "Not bloody likely. Because I killed part of Voldemort's soul, maybe." He looked smug.

Harry sniggered. "No one knows about that, Ron."

Ron smirked slightly. "Forgot, sorry. Well, then. You're right. He's probably staring because I'm friends with Number 1 on _Witch Weekly's Most Wanted for a Snog_ list.

Harry groaned and wiped his hand down his face at the reminder.

Ron grinned evilly. "Six months running," he added with relish, and laughed loudly.

"Excuse me, sir."

Ron stopped laughing abruptly and looked down at the kid who had just pulled at his robes.

"You!" he accused. "How'd you get over here so fast? Kid, you can't keep staring at people, yeah? Makes them think you're off in the head or something."

The kid nodded and extended a sticky hand towards Ron. He held a Chocolate Frog card.

Harry bit his fist to hide his laughter as Ron sighed.

"No," Ron said. "I can't get Harry Potter to sign your Chocolate Frog card, alright? Why do people keep asking me to? Harry's a specky git. Hates children. Refuses to sign anything he thinks might have been touched by one. Short, too, between you and me."

The kid blinked, hand stil extended.

"Short," Ron repeated. "A right dodgy fellow. You don't want his signature."

"But sir," the boy said. "I haven't got Harry Potter's Chocolate Frog card."

Ron stared at him. "Then why in Merlin's name do you want him to sign your card? There's no point in Harry signing someone else's card!"

"But I don't want Harry Potter to sign it. I want you to sign it."

Ron gaped at the kid.

"Me!?"

The kid nodded.

Ron blinked at him. "Well, alright then. Give it over." He grumbled as he snatched the card from the kid and searched his robes for a quill.

"Kids these days, Harry," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth. "No idea why they'd want _me_ signing _your_ Chocolate Frog card." Nonetheless, he looked pleased at having been asked for an autograph.

Harry hummed noncommittally and checked his watch. He shook his wrist. Surely the train should have been there by now.

He huffed when his shaking did not restore the time he felt it should be, and looked round to Ron when he noticed the silence.

Ron was holding the boy's Chocolate Frog card and gaping down at it, his quill poised above it.

"Harry," he breathed. "_Harry_."

"You've seen my card before, mate," said Harry. "It isn't that big a deal."

Harry knew for certain that Ron did in fact think Harry's card was a big deal, as he'd discovered a stash of at least 30 of the things in Ron's unused school trunk not long before. He hadn't tired yet of taking the mickey out of him for it, but was secretly pleased his friend was proud of him, instead of jealous.

Ron shook his head slowly. "No, Harry. Mine. _Mine_." He thrust the card at Harry's face.

Of course, this meant he was waving a card around in what appeared to be empty space and shouting his ownership of it to no one. The inhabitants of the platform stepped further away.

Harry's eyes widened. There on the front of the card was Ron's face. He was munching a biscuit and waving. Every so often he pulled out his wand, shot a spell at the biscuit, and grinned maniacally as it expanded to a size nearly as large as his head. The caption beneath the picture read:

_Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_1 March 1980-present_

_Known to friends as "Ron," Mr. Weasley is most notable for his association with the Boy-Who-Lived (Now known as the Man-Who-Lived Twice, the Chosen One, and/or the One-Who-Defeated-You-Know-Who-For-Good-This-Time), Harry Potter. Beginning in his first year of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry, during which time he solved Professor Minerva McGonagall's life-size Wizarding chess challenge guarding the Philosopher's stone, Mr. Weasley continued to help the Boy-Who-Lived in all his other altercations with You-Know-Who throughout their school years. Culminating with a year-long quest to end the Dark Lord's reign of terror, Mr. Weasley's integral contributions to the Blood War helped ensure success for the Boy-Who-Lived's ultimate defeat of You-Know-Who. Other notable accomplishments of Ron Weasley include: his status as Prefect, his exemplary performance as Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team during his sixth year, and his recent title of Champion in the 1st annual Leaky Cauldron biscuit eating competition._

"Why are there always so many hyphens?" Harry muttered, studying the various names he'd been assigned in Ron's card. He looked up when Ron let out a strangled breath.

"It's me," Ron whispered. Harry moved his head to the side so he could see past the card to Ron's face. His friend's eyes were very nearly crazed. "I have my own Chocolate Frog card."

Harry mouthed silently for a moment, contemplating the implications his friend would be feeling before suddenly laughing loudly. "Good on you, mate!"

His shout caught the attention of most of the platform, and people began muttering and gesturing towards the empty space next to Ron suspiciously. Just as one man straightened his coat and began to walk over purposefully, a train whistle could be heard filtering through the distance.

This caused a general wave of attention to descend upon the crowd. Parents began gathering their children in preparation to whisk their school-aged kids away and beat the crowd out of the Platform. Robes were straightened, conversations finished up, and promises to Owl later issued as the witches and wizards inhabiting the platform surged forward. Harry snapped his eyes to the sliver of smoke he could now distinguish as _not_ a fraud, and pushed his way through the chaos to the end of the platform, where he would be able see the passing windows when it pulled into the station.

He glanced back towards Ron, who was now enthusiastically signing the boy's Chocolate Frog card and looking a bit dazed as he watched the train pull in. Harry saw him say something, look around with a frown when there was no response, and then roll his eyes when he realized Harry had gone. Harry turned his attention back to the train, which was now curving around the last bend in the track and pulling into the station.

As the windows flashed by, he caught a brief glimpse of sleek red hair mixed with bushy brown, and wove his way through the crowd to the appropriate compartment. He grinned as he waited thinking that, finally, after a year and a half of languishing in a pitiful state distinctly bereft of Ginny's snogging talents, he was finally going to be reacquainted with her lips.

* * *

The first thing Ginny saw as she stepped off the train to the platform below was a kid with sticky fingers clutching a Chocolate Frog card and blinking owlishly up at her. The second thing she saw was a flash of Harry's maniacally smiling face as he appeared from thin air before her, arms spread wide with his Invisibility Cloak clutched in both fists, before she was engulfed in his robes and nearly choking on his jumper.

It was the Weasley jumper his mother had made him the Christmas before, even though he hadn't been there to receive it. They had had a Christmas themed party for Harry's birthday that summer; he hadn't wanted a whole day dedicated to only himself, as usual, and considering the general overflow of attention he was avoiding after the War, the Weasley's actually obliged him. And so everyone had given the Christmas presents they hadn't been able to exchange the year before to one-another, and Harry got his very own treacle tart in honor of his birthday. Her mum had written "Happy Birthday Christmas, Harry" on it with bits of pie crust.

Harry had eaten the entire thing, declaring it was the first treacle tart he'd had in over a year, and he wasn't going to share. The stomach ache that night, according to him, was worth it.

Ginny breathed in the memories encased in the wool of the jumper and grinned.

"Why, hello Harry. Is this the infamous Cloak everyone's always going on about?"

It was odd, she thought, that this was the first time she'd ever been beneath it. It had, after all, played a few major rolls in her life, apparently causing her rather explosive breakup with Dean, as well as that cold shiver of recognition on the battlefield, when she felt sure he was watching her as the girl in her arms died, sure there was something wrong with the way she felt he was watching her, like he wasn't coming back…

She took a deep breath and focused solely on the moment in front of her. She'd been doing that a lot this semester. It was helping. The distinctly _Harry_ smell clinging to the jumper against her cheek was helping more.

She was pressed so tightly against him that Harry's chuckle reverberated through her own chest. She lifted her cheek just slightly away from his shoulder-there wasn't room for her to pull any farther away, and she didn't want to-and looked up at him through her lashes.

"Do you do this to every girl you're trying to snog?" she asked. "Ambush them at the train and whisk them away before they can protest?"

Harry was still smiling in a rather silly way down at her. It made her stomach swoop in delight.

"Are you protesting?" Ginny didn't know if it was something to do with the fact he seemed a few inches taller since she last saw him, or the darkly smoldering look that had just passed across his eyes, but she could have sworn his voice had gotten deeper over their time apart.

She shook her head. She didn't feel up to words at the moment, an odd thing for her, so she leaned closer to him, running her hands up to brace herself on his shoulders, rising up on her toes…

And then pitching forward and slamming her forehead against his nose.

He made a loud noise of pain that sounded something like "Nrargh!"

She groaned and grabbed her head, glaring menacingly behind her at the second year that had tumbled from the train trunk-first and knocked her into Harry.

Of course, they were still under the cloak, so the glare didn't have quite its usual effect. The second year trotted off towards his parents and younger brother who was, incidentally, the Chocolate Frog kid. They greeted him warmly and disappeared through the platform wall.

Ginny looked up at Harry. He was still clutching his nose and groaning slightly. He pulled his hand away briefly, grimaced at the blood smearing across it, and replaced it.

"Well, thab wuff romantic," he deadpanned.

Ginny giggled slightly despite herself and rubbed at her forehead.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she said. "Someone bumped me."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment as he rummaged around in his robes for his wand. He retrieved it, pointed it as his own face, and performed a nonverbal spell that had his nose cracking back into place (this earned a yelp from him) and the blood siphoning off his hand and face.

He then pointed it at her head, and she felt the lump there recede and the fuzzy edges of her mind sharpen.

"We learned first aid second week in training," he said. "Dead useful. Would have been nice back when I was the Chosen One."

He grinned at her. She rolled her eyes.

"You still are the Chosen One, Harry."

"Right," he nodded firmly. "The Chosen One to snog Ginny Weasley."

Ginny snorted a laugh. "Harry Potter, that is possibly the _worst line_-_"_

_"_Doesn't matter if it works does it?" Harry interrupted, leaning closer and finishing lowly. "So the question is…is it working?"

Ginny's eyelids fluttered closed and her lips tingled deliciously as the static of Harry's breath sifted so closely over them. They were very nearly brushing, so close to fulfilling all of the fantasies she'd indulged during History of Magic, when suddenly, Ron's voice infiltrated their bubble of intimacy.

"Well!" he was saying loudly. "It looks like everyone's nearly left the platform! I wonder where my wonderful baby sister has gone off to when she is _supposed_ to be greeting the brother she hasn't seen for months and letting him Apparate her home!"

Ginny sighed exasperatedly and dropped her head on Harry's shoulder.

"He won't stop until we come out," she muttered. Harry made a vaguely threatening sort of humming noise.

"Since there's _no one else who came with me_," her brother continued. "Especially no one who would dare _inappropriately defile my baby sister in a public place_, I am quite certain she must still be on the train!"

Ginny looked over to see Hermione and her brother standing near the exit of the platform. The rest of the public seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Hermione was rolling her eyes at him and primly straightening her hair. It was quite clear she hadn't been the one to muss it.

"We'd better go," Ginny sighed. She made to pull away, but Harry tightened his grip on her waist. She looked back to him and gasped.

His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them, and she felt transfixed within his gaze.

"Later," he practically growled.

Ginny shivered as she nodded. This was a side to Harry she had never experienced before. Sixth year he had been vaguely preoccupied the entire year, and when they were together it was as if he was studiously living entirely in the moment, like he knew they had a very limited time to be normal teenagers together.

And then, whenever she had seen him in the year afterward, he had been intensely focused upon a single mission, and seeing her seemed to cause him physical pain, as if she were reminding him of everything he couldn't ever have.

Harry had always had a tendency to focus completely upon one thing, and before now it had generally been keeping himself and those he cared about alive.

But now…now he seemed _free_. Free to focus on whatever he wished, unburdened. And he was completely focused on her. He was, for the first time, _just Harry_. And Just Harry wanted her, Ginny Weasley. And it was very, massively sexy. She very nearly couldn't breathe.

Harry gave her one last demanding sort of look, before snapping his head toward Ron and Hermione, and nearly dragging her over toward them as she collected herself.

She slid a shaky hand through her hair before taking a deep breath, giving Harry what she hoped was a promising look, and throwing the cloak off of them.

"Hello, Ron," she said calmly. "How are you today? Feeling particularly like a massive git?"

Ron completely ignored her and locked eyes on Harry.

"Did you ask her?" he demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave Ron a withering glare before turning pleasantly to Hermione.

"Hi Hermione," he said cheerfully, and opened his arms. She bounded into them immediately and squeezed him tightly.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I missed you! It just hasn't been the same at Hogwarts without you. Of course, it doesn't help that I don't get _nearly_ as many letters as Ginny from you." She gave him a mock glare and grinned when he shrugged.

"You know me, Hermione," he said. "I'm not a big letter writer." He slid an arm around Ginny's waist, ignoring Ron's grumble at the action.

Hermione snorted. "You wouldn't know it. Poor Pig actually _sleeps_ these days he's so tired from the correspondence between you two!"

Ginny giggled as Harry grinned and Ron glared at them suspiciously.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at them shrewdly before shaking her head and continuing briskly.

"Anyway Harry, you _must_ tell me about Auror training. I should think you've learned all sorts of useful spells! Of course, I've learned all _kinds_ of things in NEWT classes…so many things that would have been helpful last year, you know, but of course we can't be bothered about that now. Professor McGonagall says I could be an Unspeakable if I get all my NEWTs, but I'm not sure if I'd like Magical Law better. There are just so many choices, and I think…"

Hermione chattered away as Ron and Harry made agreeable humming noises and gathered the girls' trunks.

"She's been like this all year," Ginny muttered to Harry as she grabbed the other end of her trunk and helped him lift it. "The only way I can get her to stop is to start chattering away about the Quidditch matches. Which by the way, could you write to our new Seeker? He has potential, but I really think a bit of inspiration would go a long way toward making him practice his flying. He's so focused on finding the Snitch he tends to forget the fundamentals. And he's a big fan of yours."

Harry cut a glance her way as they made their way through the barrier to the other side.

"Are you shamelessly using me for my fame to improve your chances to win the House Cup?"

"No," she said, and gave him a saucy look. "I'm shamelessly using your _infamy_ to _guarantee_ my winning the House Cup."

Harry laughed loudly and grabbed her hand to Apparate them to the Burrow. And for the first time since he left Hogwarts in sixth year, he felt the calm confident feeling that came with going someplace that truly felt like home.

* * *

**A/N: Part two will be out shortly. It's halfway finished. Review, please! **

**-h**


	4. Betting on a Gift

**A/N: Part II of the Burrow at Christmas. I had fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. **

**Chapter Four:**

**Betting on a Gift**

The Burrow was even more crowded than it normally was during the holidays. All of the Weasley children had returned home this year to celebrate the first Christmas after the War (not including Harry's birthday Christmas, of course), and they had been joined by Andromeda and Harry's godson Teddy this year as well. Hagrid stopped by briefly, early in the evening, via Floo, which had been a rather strenuous experience for the Burrow's small fireplace. He had left not long after, claiming Grawp's holiday loneliness, but not without a Christmas pudding from Molly. Now, Fleur was cooing over Teddy and speaking to him rapidly in French, while glancing not-very-subtly over his turquoise head toward her husband Bill. She and Teddy seemed to be having a very serious conversation about her husband. Bill, for his part, was studiously ignoring her and looking quite green about the gills as he did so.

Harry couldn't tell if this was because it was near a full moon, when Bill felt some effects from his attack, or because of Fleur's obvious desire to procreate. He was betting on the latter, especially given the approving looks Mrs. Weasley was shooting Fleur and the vicious ones she sent towards her eldest son, but he decided he didn't want to analyze it, and went back to his previous occupation.

Which had been brooding. About Ginny. Who had been whisked away by her mum the moment they had Apparated in front of the Burrow, and had been passed around her _thousands_ of family members ever since. Harry, despite his usual warm feelings towards the giant Weasley clan, suddenly found himself highly disapproving of the sheer number of them.

Currently, Ginny was speaking with Charlie over near the Christmas tree, laughing at something he'd said. Harry huffed. She should have been laughing at something _he _had said. While they were hiding somewhere private. Snogging. Extensively.

He huffed again, and glared at Charlie. Charlie pretended not to notice while surreptitiously twirling his wand at his side. Harry yelped as the spell hit him and tugged a piece of his hair hard at his left temple. He rubbed at it and glared viciously at Charlie.

"Alright, Harry?"

Harry grunted distractedly in response as Mr. Weasley sat down beside him. He suddenly remembered himself, and tore his eyes away from Arthur's daughter as he straightened.

"Oh, yes," Harry nodded, making an effort to be polite to the man who had given him a roof to live under since he was 11. "I'm great. Happy Christmas, Mr. Weasley."

Arthur chuckled and patted Harry on the back. "Arthur, Harry, how many times?"

Harry flushed and smiled at his lap. "Sorry…Arthur."

Arthur leaned back in his chair and followed Harry's gaze to Charlie and Ginny by the tree.

"I suppose all those letters to Hogwarts you write at our kitchen table haven't been going to Hermione, hm?"

Harry flushed nearly to his toes while Arthur chuckled.

"Relax, Harry," Arthur smiled. "You wouldn't think we'd be upset over you fancying our Ginny?"

Harry sputtered. "I…it's…well, I…"

"We've even got a bet over it. Percy is keeping the book, being rather the most organized." Mr. Weasley mulled this over. "I'll have to check my standings. As a matter of tact, you see. I never lose." He thought for a moment, "When I decide to participate, that is."

Harry gaped. Mr. Weasley laughed.

"Where do you think the twins got it?" he chuckled, before frowning at the plural he'd used and looking suddenly rather vacant. He seemed to collect himself rapidly before beaming toward Harry, lifting himself from his seat, and patting Harry's shoulder as he searched the room.

"Best get used to it, Harry my boy," he said. "Won't be long before they all figure it out, and I'm afraid even I can't protect you from the inevitabilities involved in seeing a girl with si-" he checked himself again, five older brothers. "Five older brothers." Arthur smiled sadly.

He patted Harry once more on the shoulder, gave him a sympathetic sort of look, and wove his way through the crowd to where Percy was speaking loudly to Bill, who was still focused solely on the sight of his wife holding a small child.

Harry's wide eyes followed Mr. Weasley's progress in panic. He hadn't thought about what this would mean. Ginny's brothers would kill him! His gaze fixated quickly on a poorly wrapped gift beneath the Christmas tree. It was small and bright green, resting in the mass of other gifts inconspicuously, but to Harry it had all the sudden markings of imminent doom. It was too much commitment. Too soon. And all of her brothers would know it, and they would kill him.

Harry was entirely certain the Weasleys could kill him much more effectively than Voldemort had. More painfully, as well.

He felt eyes upon him and looked up. Hermione was frowning at him from across the room. He jumped up and started toward her immediately.

"Hermione!" he gasped as he neared her.

"Harry?" she hurried toward him, reaching a hand out to his arm. "Are you okay? Is it your scar?" She looked panicked.

Harry paused and touched his forehead. "What?" he frowned. "Oh. No, that hasn't hurt in ages. You know, since everything."

Hermione seemed to sag with the weight of relief that descended upon her.

"Gods, Harry!" she said, "Don't scare me like that! You looked just like you did every time you'd seen Tom doing something horrible through your scar!"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry," he mumbled, before dragging her to a corner to explain his dilemma. Hermione listened with rapidly decreasing concern. She stared at him without amusement as he finished.

"You must be joking," she deadpanned.

"Hermione! This is serious!"

"I hardly think it warrants a reaction equivalent to discovering a new Horcrux we hadn't realized existed."

Harry looked offended. "It may as well be! This is life or death, Hermione!"

She rolled her eyes. "You'd think he'd know the difference by now," she muttered to herself. "After having _actually_ died and all."

Harry glared. "Exactly," he was starting to sound petulant. "I, of all people, should know when my life is in danger."

Hermione rolled her eyes once again. Harry huffed and glanced worriedly at the package.

"_Please,_ Hermione."

She sighed. "Fine, Harry. If it means so much to you. But I'm going on record as saying I think this is completely ridiculous."

Harry waved this away as they ducked their heads together and began to plan.

* * *

Ginny frowned at the pile of packages at her feet as Percy opened his gift from George carefully. Harry was sitting across the room. Away from her. Looking decidedly shifty and nervous.

She didn't like it at all. He never looked shifty and nervous except when he was up to something. Which was admittedly more often than the regular person was up to something, but this was reminding her of the days before he disappeared on his mysterious hunt for secret pieces of Voldemort's soul.

She wondered if his scar was hurting again. The thought made her want to vomit.

She jerked back to attention as Percy yelled out in surprise, fighting the urge to draw her wand. She was getting better about it. It only took two weeks of scaring the life out of unsuspecting first years when they found themselves staring at the business end of her wand after laughing too loudly in her general vicinity for her to begin to master the urge to draw her wand at the slightest abnormal sound or motion. Neville and Luna had helped. Or, Luna mostly. Neville was the same way when they had first returned, and it took many of Luna's dreamy explanations of Wrackspurt infestations to terrified first years before Ginny and Neville had finally started to quell their overly sensitive instincts.

She looked over to Percy, controlling her rapid breathing, and burst out laughing.

His head was engulfed in a cauldron, the rim of which had closed itself around his neck just enough to result in the impossibility of tugging it over his chin. His neck was stretched to capacity as he pulled strenuously on the cauldron, and the bottom of his ears, just barely showing, were bright red.

The rest of the room's occupants stared in awe for only a moment before losing themselves in raucous laughter. George was looking very satisfied, though not nearly as animated as he once would have, from his place on the sagging couch.

"Argh!" Percy's voice reverberated from within its encasement. "How do I get this thing _off!?_"

"Easy," George replied from the couch. "Just guess the thickness of the cauldron's bottom. Get it right, and it pops right off."

Percy froze, turning in the general direction of George. If they could have seen his face, Ginny was sure it would reflect flabbergasted awe.

"You must be joking," he said, though the tremor in his voice was obviously the beginning of a chuckle. The room dissolved into laughter again. Even Mrs. Weasley joined this time, though she still managed to look vaguely disapproving. She seemed to be struggling between scolding George and dissolving into tears on his shoulder. It was obvious he was beginning to heal in Fred's absence, and his sense of humor hadn't been completely lost. Though, of course, it was not quite as vibrant.

"Come on, Perce," said Charlie from his place beside Ginny. He gave her shoulder a squeeze with the arm he held around her. "We all know you can tell cauldron bottom thickness in your sleep."

Percy grumbled from within his prison for a moment before sighing, finally, and reaching up to tap the bottom of the cauldron. A hollow sound echoed through the room, and Percy straightened as he said authoritatively, "1 and 1/3 inches. Much too thin to comply with regulations."

The cauldron popped off his head and landed harmlessly in his hands, revealing his wry expression and skewed glasses. It took several minutes for everyone to calm down enough to continue with the opening of gifts. For his part, Percy seemed to take the teasing gracefully. Whether it was as a result of his new girlfriend Audrey being in attendance, or simply his newfound perspective after all his many experiences in the War, Ginny didn't know. But as far as she was concerned, if it amounted to the same thing-Percy as a part of the family once again-then she didn't think she cared either way.

Finally, Mrs. Weasley shushed everyone and turned to Ginny.

"Your turn, dear," she said kindly, and Ginny's eyes darted immediately toward the bright green package she had deduced must be from Harry. She was leaning forward to reach for it before she realized that it was no longer there.

"What…"

Ginny's eyes snapped to Harry, who was looking suspiciously innocent as he shuffled halfway behind Hermione to try and hide himself from her view.

"Where'd it go?" Ginny demanded. Her family was staring at her oddly.

"Ginny, dear…" her mother started, but Ginny waved a hand to cut her off.

"No, it was right there," she insisted. "Where is it?" Her eyes narrowed on the occupants of the room. One of them had taken it. She knew it. And it was _hers_. She knew that too.

"Gin, what are you talking about?" Charlie was looking amused from his place beside her on the floor, and Ginny saw him twirl his wand inconspicuously at his side. A muffled yelp came from across the room, and Harry's head emerged from behind Hermione's shoulder. He was glaring indignantly at Charlie, rubbing the side of his head with one hand and, with the other, clutching…

"Hey!" Ginny popped from the ground triumphantly. "There it is!" She smiled as she skipped happily toward Harry, whose hand had frozen on his head. He was gaping at her with what looked like horror. Hermione looked panicked for a moment before she sighed, rolled her eyes, and glared at Harry.

"You can't say I didn't try," she concluded to him, and walked over to sit by Ron on the arm of his loveseat, thus exposing the rest of the bright green package held in Harry's hand. She crossed her arms and lifted an eyebrow at him, before smirking, relaxing upon the arm of Ron's chair, and snaking a foot over to rub the back of her boyfriend's calf.

Ginny was standing in front of Harry now, looking into his panicked green eyes.

"Nothing gets between me and my presents, Potter," she said. "Give it over." She patted his shoulder as she reached down to tug it from his hand. His grip was like one of George's ever-sticking solutions. Completely immovable. Ginny frowned and tugged harder.

"Mate," Ron took time from grinning happily at his girlfriend to look Harry's way. "She's being serious, you know. She turned my nose blue when she was five years old because I hid her present from Bill. It wouldn't go back right for a week."

Bill snorted from the corner. "_Never _went back quite right, did it?"

"Shut up, Bill."

The rest of the Weasley brothers snickered gleefully at Ron's rapidly reddening face, but were quickly silenced as the tug of war between Harry and Ginny got suddenly more fierce.

"Give it, Potter!" Ginny was now tugging on the package with both hands while Harry was staunchly attempting to look completely innocent as he stared at the wall over her left shoulder.

"Harry, mate, you should really listen to her. She gets vicious with this sort of thing," Ron was starting to sound worried.

"I told you it wouldn't work, Harry. This is ridiculous!" Hermione huffed.

"Ginny dear, perhaps Harry doesn't want to give you your gift right now…"

Harry and Ginny were oblivious to the family's commentary as they struggled over the package in Harry's hand, until suddenly, Ginny stopped moving.

"Alright, Harry," she sighed sadly. "I'll open a different one."

She turned away and ducked her head, hiding her face behind a curtain of her red hair. She sniffed quietly, her shoulders sagging, and let Harry glimpse a shining tear track down her cheek.

"Ginny," he whispered. His voice was a mixture of devastation and panic; he never had been good with crying girls. He took a step forward.

In a flurry of motion so quick it could only come from the athleticism of two-a-day Quidditch practices at Hogwarts, Ginny ducked under Harry's arm, twisted the package in his now slack hand, and used her momentum to push him off balance as she triumphantly thrust the package over her head and jabbed her wand at Harry as he spun around in surprise.

"_Immobulus!" _she cried, and the spell hit Harry directly in the nose. He froze in a position of utmost surprise and extreme horror. His eyes searched Ginny's face with what looked like a mixture of awe and betrayal.

"Oldest trick in the book, mate," Charlie spoke up from the couch. "_Never_ fall for the waterworks."

Ginny, for her part, was tearing into the wrapping of her triumphantly won Christmas gift while dancing on the balls of her feet and giggling in a way that seemed distinctly evil to Harry.

Mrs. Weasley seemed torn between reprimanding her daughter and giggling along with her, as she lifted her wand to set Harry back to rights.

She never got the chance. A gasp of shock had spread over the Weasley clan as if a bucket of freezing water had been dumped over the entire room. Ginny stood, immovable.

Delicately resting in Ginny's palms, gold glinting softly in the firelight and trembling slightly from the tremor in her hands as the green wrapping paper fluttered slowly to the ground, was a small, black book.

It looked _exactly_ like the one from her second year, save the name engraved in gold in the right front corner.

_Ginevra Molly Weasley_

_(And no one else)_

"Harry…" Ron's voice had a threatening undertone that seemed very close to manifesting itself into violence.

Ginny and Harry ignored him. Ginny was still immobile, staring at the black diary in her hands and trembling. Harry searched her face with his eyes so intensely that no one else seemed to be in the room. He closed them, concentrated hard, and threw off Ginny's curse.

In three strides he was across the room.

"Gin," he said softly, reaching out to touch her arm. She flinched, and his hand retreated immediately. Her brothers were all standing now, their weight balanced on their balls of their feet threateningly.

Harry ignored them and took another step forward. He made no move to touch her.

"Gin," he said again. "Open it."

Her eyes scrunched closed immediately with his words and her breathing quickened. She shook her head fiercely.

"Hey," Harry didn't hesitate this time as he reached out to hold her arms gently above her elbows. Ginny didn't flinch. "Look at me."

After a moment, she looked up.

Harry smiled at her.

"Will you trust me?"

Ginny searched his face frantically for a moment before looking back down to the book in her hands. It wasn't trembling anymore.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and opened the front cover.

There were no fireworks. No happy little strings of music filtering out of the pages. No bubbles magically floating up to tickle her nose. He had done nothing at all to make the experience of opening this diary any different than the experience of opening Riddle's. Save one thing.

Writing. Harry's writing. It was already scrawled across the front page. Nothing extensive, only a short little note across the top in his messy scrawl, but it stayed there. It was permanent. It hadn't appeared as if by magic when she opened the book, and it wasn't sinking into the page as she watched. It was immovable. It was permanent. And so was what it said.

_Ginny,_

_You told me once that the worst part of your second year wasn't the possession, but the fact that the possession was made possible because you had given your whole self to Tom, and you couldn't take it back._

_Let's reverse it this time. I am going to give my whole self to you right now, and I'm going to hope it helps you see this diary differently than the last. _

_I love you._

_And I'll never take that back._

_-Harry_

_PS: Please don't possess me now._

Ginny's breathing had quickened during the first few lines, and then stopped completely as she read his confession. Now she reached the end and her breath came out in a great rush. Her hands had begun to tremble again, but it quickly became apparent that it was for an entirely different reason this time.

Ginny gave a short, elated laugh as she lifted her eyes from the book in her hands and fixed Harry with the blazing look she had pinned him with the very first time they kissed in his sixth year. He didn't even have a chance to wonder what she thought of his gift before she had launched herself into his arms and planted a searing kiss upon his lips.

The kiss didn't last long. Their elated grins made it difficult to properly kiss, and there was an immediate and loud protestation from most of the Weasley males in the room. Harry was yanked back from Ginny almost as quickly as Ginny had pulled him forward, and George's loud voice sounded from just beside his ear.

"Didn't happen!" he announced. "Everyone look away. Bet's still on."

Mr. Weasley ignored him as he held his hand out toward Percy.

"If you please, Percival," he intoned smugly. He winked at Harry. "Told you I never lose a bet. Christmas, on the dot."

Harry's grin was nearly splitting his face as George sighed in defeat and let go of the back of his jumper. He stumbled forward dazedly, still grinning madly at Ginny.

_"Arthur_," Mrs. Weasley demanded. "_What_ are you doing?"

Mr. Weasley didn't miss a beat as he deftly caught the leather pouch Percy had tossed his way. "Collecting my winnings, Mollywobbles," he informed.

She gasped. "You were _gambling_ on our only daughter's _love life_!?"

Arthur shrugged. "Nothing else to gamble on, was there?"

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be building up a head of steam at her husband's less than contrite reaction, her face rapidly increasing through various shades of red. At a concerned nudge from Fleur, who was watching Harry and Ginny grin stupidly at each other with a soppy look on her face, Bill cleared his throat.

"Well," he announced nervously. "Might as well give you all something new to put money on, since I'll be needing to win my Galleons back from Dad soon."

Everyone stared at him. He shrugged.

"Fleur's expecting," he smiled. Fleur flushed prettily and nodded.

"Oui," she said. "In May."

The room exploded in a cacophony of sound and chaos. Molly burst into tears and flew across the room to engulf her eldest son and his wife in a hug. Arthur grinned mightily and swept a spare bit of wrapping paper from the floor to begin taking down the bets. George made a joke about a Veela-Werechild that had his mother smacking him round the head soundly, and Percy pompously announced the new rules for registering a magical child with the Ministry, as the former administration had made the process a bit of a debacle.

Harry and Ginny ignored it all. It was easy. Being they were snogging in the corner.

"Oi, Potter!" Ron yelled above the noise. "Hands off my sister!"

Harry was content to send a rude hand gesture his friend's way-he wasn't one to talk, endlessly shagging the closest thing Harry had to a sister-but quickly became aware that this would not suffice. The room had gone completely silent at Ron's pronouncement.

Harry and Ginny broke apart to stare into one another's eyes. Harry broke their gaze to flicker his eyes nervously to her brothers. They were glaring daggers at him and slowly stalking forward.

"I think I'd better run," he murmured.

Ginny giggled, but didn't contradict him.

Harry turned back to her, grinned, and placed one more fierce kiss upon her lips. There was a roar of protest from the now rapidly approaching mob of redheads.

And Harry bolted.

The chase lasted much longer than any of her brothers expected. Most of them had never seen just how quickly Harry could run, having never witnessed him fleeing from his cousin. In the end, Harry was holding them at bay with a well-developed _protego_ charm, while they pelted spells his way and dodged through trees as he sprinted through the snow-covered yard. He was fairly close to negotiating a truce with them, a tactic he had just begun learning at the Auror Academy, and one of the only subjects in which he didn't have an amazing track record.

He was certain he was just about to secure his first truce, when Ginny shattered his chances.

"Harry!" she called from her window in the Burrow. He grinned through his concentration as he blocked yet another tickling jinx from George.

"Yes?" he called back.

"I need to tell you something!"

Harry grunted as a particularly strong stunner nearly shattered his shield. It must have come from Charlie. He was grinning evilly at Harry's left, and Harry was fairly certain it was a modified spell meant for one of his dragons.

"I'm a bit busy, at the moment!" he called back.

"It really can't wait!"

Harry yelped as a stinging jinx from Ron caught him in the ankle.

"Well, um…" Harry dodged behind a tree to avoid a burping hex from Percy.

"Good one, Perce!" George complimented. "She'll never want to kiss him if he's belching."

"Indeed, brother," Percy confirmed as he straightened his glasses. "My thoughts exactly."

Harry ignored them. "Can you just tell me now?" Harry called from behind his tree.

Ginny sighed loudly.

"Oh, alright!" she said. She paused.

Harry cursed and barely escaped a Jelly Legs jinx from Ron, who had climbed the tree beside him and aimed through the leaves above his head. He was sprinting across an open patch of the garden towards the shed, flinging tripping hexes over his shoulder for cover, when she completely shattered his world and everything he knew within it.

"I love you too!" she cried.

Harry froze, snapping his gaze to her from the middle of the cabbage patch behind the house. A smile slowly stretched across his face as the elation rose within his chest, and he let his wand drop to his side as he beamed at her.

And he was still beaming as five different Stunners hit him from five different directions.

Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to mind.

**A/N: If you liked it, please review! I love feedback!**


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